"Where there is love," said he, politely echoing the
English view. Then he smiled on her, expecting congratulations.
"Do I understand that you are proposing to marry again?"
He nodded.
"I forbid you, then!"
He looked puzzled, but took it for some foreign banter,
and laughed.
"I forbid you!" repeated Miss Abbott, and all the
indignation of her sex and her nationality went thrilling
through the words.
"But why?" He jumped up, frowning. His voice was
squeaky and petulant, like that of a child who is suddenly
forbidden a toy.
"You have ruined one woman; I forbid you to ruin
another. It is not a year since Lilia died. You pretended
to me the other day that you loved her. It is a lie. You
wanted her money. Has this woman money too?"
"Why, yes!" he said irritably. "A little."
"And I suppose you will say that you love her."
"I shall not say it. It will be untrue. Now my poor
wife--" He stopped, seeing that the comparison would involve
him in difficulties. And indeed he had often found Lilia as
agreeable as any one else.
Miss Abbott was furious at this final insult to her dead
acquaintance. She was glad that after all she could be so
angry with the boy. She glowed and throbbed; her tongue
moved nimbly. At the finish, if the real business of the
day had been completed, she could have swept majestically
from the house. But the baby still remained, asleep on a
dirty rug.
Gino was thoughtful, and stood scratching his head.
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